Untitled Project
by xFumblingThroughTheGray
Summary: Just a little AU oneshot that got stuck in my head of what went through Kyle's mind while he was in his coma in Melbourne and what woke him up.


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xFumblingThroughTheGray  
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Untitled Project  
A Home & Away One-shot  
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Nothingness enveloped him. A sea of nothingness. Like a floating sensation that originated in his stomach but wound up permeating every inch of his being. He was… at peace? There was no other way he could think to describe it. He was so used to his world spinning chaotically around him, so used to the constant feeling of running out of time that it took a moment to find the right word to describe this peculiar sensation, but there it was. He felt at peace.

No burdens. Just weightless.

"Kyle."

Someone calling his name vibrates in his eardrum, the simple spoken word sounding more beautiful than any musical composition the young musician had ever heard. It sounded like coming home hearing the voice again. He'd tried so hard to hold onto it over the past year though he found the memory of the voice to be like trying to hold onto water. It was slipping away. Until now.

"Kyle," the voice called again and he strained to open his eyes. Rationality said it wasn't possible the person who owned the voice was there. His mind was playing tricks. But he couldn't resist. He had to know. He just had to be certain.

Haunted hazel lazily emerged from beneath heavy lids, taking several blinks against the harshness as he strained to search for the ghost calling out to him. He fights the brightness trying to make out the features of the person hanging overhead. The radiance surrounding him gave the illusion of a halo around the spiky hair of the man but other than that, he was a mere silhouette of darkness.

"Case," he rasps out, the words strained as they hummed over his lips. "Case?"

Finally his eyes adjust to the beaming rays of the sun and he makes the final leaps to alertness. He's at the beach lying in the sand with waves lightly lapping against his legs staring up at a person who couldn't possibly be there.

"Yeah, mate," Casey responded, reaching down for his brother to take his hand, the edge of his lip turning up in the smirk that had been burned into Kyle's memory.

The icy chill of the ocean raged up the older Braxton's spine as he stared at his brother's extended hand. It wasn't possible. He couldn't be there. Case was dead. He died. So how was he standing right in front of him? Just as quickly as the question entered his mind, Kyle cast it aside. He didn't care. He was just happy to see him. Reaching up he took his younger brother's hand and climbed out of the sand immediately pulling the younger Braxton into a hug, clinging to him with a desperation that screamed he had no intention of ever letting go.

He thought he'd never see Casey again, but her he was. He felt the solid life of his brother in his arms, breathes in his scent. And when he exhales it comes out in a strangled sob. And for a moment Casey hugs Kyle back, genuinely happy to be reunited with his brother. But as happy as he was to see him, he knew it had to end.

"I missed ya', Kyle," he admits pulling out of his brother's embrace, his hands sliding to Kyle's shoulders as their gazes meet and he channels his inner Brax, "but- as much as I want you to stay- you can't be here."

His words physically wound Kyle, the aching void he's felt without his brothers opening further and stalling his breath. He blinks back silent, renegade tears that want to flow, always one to bottle up his emotions. But some bubbled to the surface, drowning his features in heartache and misery.

"Case," he stammers trying to find the words beneath the ball of emotion stuck in his throat. "I… I wanna stay with you. Please. Let me stay."

"'Fraid you can't, mate," Casey responds, obviously torn between what he had to do and what he wanted to do. His brother in everything but blood stood in front of him begging to stay. But he had so much left to live for and Casey couldn't be selfish with him.

"Why not?" Kyle chokes out, a single tear escaping.

As if to answer his question soft feminine tones echoed out all around the two men spanning through the vastness of sand and ocean. "C'mon, mate. We both need you to wake up."

 _Ricky._

xXx

It's a string of beeps that declares to the world that Kyle Braxton is still alive keeping Ricky Sharpe sane. But it's killing her knowing she can't do anything but wait. Watch and wait… Trying to find something to keep her from waiting on bated breath each pause before his respirator draws in air, Ricky offers to find food but Phoebe decides to take on the task, leaving her to watch the rise and fall of rippling chest muscles.

Unable to stand idly anymore, Ricky moves to his bedside and finds her hand sliding down his arm wistfully, wishing she knew if he could feel her touch- if he knew he wasn't alone. How she wished she'd hear the gravely baritones of his accented voice say her name or tease her about worrying. Knowing it's not possible in this moment she fills the silence.

"C'mon mate. We both need you to wake up," she pleads to his silent, unconscious form.

It feels strange talking to him, not knowing if he can hear her but she finds herself continuing to reach out to him anyways. Tentatively she brushes an errant chocolate lock off his forehead and back into place, her fingers linger, ghosting across his skin, having to feel him to believe he was still with her. Still stroking his hair, she continues to speak, "When I was little I believed everything happened in threes."

A small smile teases the blonde's lips as she moved her hand back down to his. "It's not that I'm superstitious. It's just how it always worked out. First Casey. Then Brax. Don't be the third." she whispers brokenly, her grip on his hand tightening. She'd never let go again. She needs him too much and it's a frightening thought to the single mom. History showed that caring for someone had proved to be the fastest way for that person to vanish or be taken from her life. That's why she promised herself she'd never need anyone again. She couldn't be that vulnerable again. She couldn't lose herself in grief again. But right then and there she knew if she lost Kyle, that's exactly what'd happen…

She'd be lost.

xXx

Guilt sunk in him like a rusty nail, tearing and tainting his insides. One by one, intentionally or not, they'd left. All the Braxton brothers left taking a piece of Ricky Sharpe with them. He could practically hear himself tearing away a piece of her heart in her voice. He was so consumed with trying to fill a void in his heart, he created one in hers. How could he have been so damn foolish? Perpetually blindly following his P.O.S. father's mantra. All or Nothing. He couldn't see that he already had everything he could ever need.

Ricky and Case…

When Brax had originally tasked Kyle with looking out for Ricky and their son, he thought of it as helping his brother out. But as time went by he'd completely forgotten his obligation to Brax and just enjoyed being there and having them there. It had gone from a chore to a choice. He chose to spend time with her. He chose to care about her. And somewhere along the line he chose to love her. Love. It was the first time he'd admitted it to himself that somewhere along the way she went from Brax's girl to Ricky. He started to lean on her as much as she did him, she became the best parts of his day, and as necessary to his life as breathing.

"Trust me. There's so much left for you to live for," she added as if reading his thoughts. He'd been running away his whole life and now he finally had something to run towards.

But that meant waking up and waking up meant…

His gaze returned to the knowing expression of his brother, the edge of Casey's lip curled into a knowing smirk. He was so peaceful, collected, understanding… everything Kyle wanted him to be but felt he didn't deserve.

"I-I have to go back," he whispers hoarsely against the dread culminating within of having to lose his baby brother yet again.

Slowly Casey nods understanding the emotion swirling in Kyle's eyes. It was hard to believe the man before him was the same vengeful soul that'd nearly taken his life in the desert all those years ago with resentment in his heart and hatred in his eyes... The man before him now looked at him no different than his other older brothers would. Unconditional love.

Brotherhood.

That's what they were in every way but blood. That's why Casey knew that the very reason Kyle wanted to stay was the very reason he had to leave. Brothers couldn't be selfish with each other. Kyle would stay if Casey asked, abandon the very chance of happiness he'd been searching for his whole life simply because his brother asked him to. That's why he couldn't do it. He had to let him go with the simple hope that they'd meet back here after Kyle lived a full, happy, life and could tell him all about it.

"I know," he agrees before reaching out and giving his brother a playful punch in the shoulder to lighten the mood. "But, hey, at least we get to say goodbye this time, right?"

A slight chuckle slips from Kyle's lips. God how he missed his brother's uncanny ability to bring him around to seeing the bright side. Thick arms wrap around his younger brother and he silently kicks himself realizing that you truly don't know what you have 'til you're about to lose it. Moments of affection hadn't been a wildly popular thing in the Braxton clan but Kyle couldn't remember the last time he'd hugged Casey before waking up here, didn't remember ever telling his little brother he loved him. It was long overdue but he found himself saying it none the less. "I love you, Casey."

"I love you, too," Casey whispers. "Goodbye, mate."

xXx


End file.
